Exceptionally important.
When would this lesson take place?
Tomorrow evening. I’ll give you the details tomorrow. But only if you’re a good girl and go to sleep now.
And if I don’t?
I’ll be the only one enjoying your lesson.
I must be sick in the head because that prospect intrigues me even more. He won’t kill me, I know that. He won’t beat me up like some wife-beater, either.
What would he do to me that only he would enjoy?
My phone vibrates in my hand as I daydream of horribly dirty things.
Sleep, kitten.
Maybe I wasn’t replying because I listened and fell asleep. You don’t know.
I do know. See you tomorrow, kitten.
Sleep tight, killer-boy.
Slowly, I slide under the covers, my lids finally heavy and chest light, and as I drift off to dreamland, I realize all the anxiety’s gone. But I don’t have time to process why as sleep takes me.
* * *
I run back inside my house on eager steps, holding tightly to the large, shallow square box the courier handed to me. The bronze silk ribbon looks beautifully decadent against the red, and I’m dying to crack it open.
I tried really hard to not wait around on Carter. I didn’t want to be that woman, waiting endlessly on a man.
Clearly, he also didn’t want to be that man, because he texted me mid-morning to tell me something’s coming at eight pm. It didn’t stop me from checking the time far too often all day.
He didn’t tell me what he planned, but I’ve been hoping tirelessly that those fantasies I’ve been plagued with, of pain and subdued violence, would come true.
Setting the box on the coffee table, I pull on the delicate ribbon and lift the lid. A white card sits on bronze tissue paper, my name written beautifully in cursive on it, and I turn it to find a short message.
Put this outfit on and be ready by 8:30pm. A car will come to pick you up for Metamorphosis.
Looking forward to your lesson.
Yours,
C
Mine . . .
I peel off the tissue paper, and on top of another layer sits something made more of straps than fabric. I’m suddenly hot. I may have been to Metamorphosis a few times, but never have I worn something like this. Revealing outfits that made me feel confident as fuck, yes, but never just...risqué lingerie.
I lift it via the bra straps and cock my head. Okay, it’s actually quite pretty. It’s a dark-red teddy made of lace and satin straps that I’ll have to figure out in a minute when I pull it on.
I lay it to the side as I remove the rest of the tissue paper to discover a heap of lace the same color as the teddy. When I lift it, I find the softest sheer lace dress I’ve ever touched. It’s a simple design, with an exposed back and a tie behind the neck.
I’m not sure what I expected when I read the note, but this is not it. Maybe I thought Carter would choose metal and leather. Something harsh. More...hardcore.
This is soft. Delicate. Elegantly depraved.
Like Midnight.